Now she had a life outside of work. She’d been to the park, a museum, a club, and she had started reading—for fun, even—and she had found the time to talk to her Mom on the phone.
But the biggest surprise of all, she was working fewer hours. Down by about five point seven hours per week, but still…it was a start. And she’d get better.
All because of Joe.
That made her smile. She leaned back in her chair and this time she did put her feet up on the desk—after all, the door was shut. She remembered their conversations, the way he looked at her with those magical eyes of his. All life and heat, and oh…she shivered.
Her fingers lightly touched the buttons on her phone. Maybe he’d just want to see her again because he liked her company. Because she could make him laugh. Because he wanted to kiss her. Because he wanted to do more…
She loved the way he kissed, so unrestrained, uncontrolled. Joe knew who he was, and when he kissed you, you knew it, too. And when he took her to bed…
Her eyes drifted shut. The men she’d dated in the past had never even kicked up a sweat in bed. Joe would be different.
He would carry her into the bedroom…. Nah, that was all wrong. They’d barely get the door shut and he’d press her against the wall. Yeah, that was Joe. He’d kiss her then. Muscles holding her against the wall, tongue thrusting inside her mouth, circling. Hungry and greedy. He’d be breathing heavily in her ear, telling her what he wanted to do to her. How she would scream.
Amanda clenched her fists a few times, taking deep breaths. Oh, this was getting good.
He would rip off her shirt, the buttons flying across the room. Her bra would be no obstacle, he’d unfasten the clasp with one hand. His desire had him whipped in a frenzy.
His desire for her. Every bit of her was throbbing, pleading for his hands, his mouth. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, aching to be touched. He’d tell her how perfect she was. Then his lips would clamp over her breast.
At last.
Sucking hard and fast. She would bury her hands in his hair, welcoming the pressure. But she wanted more. She rubbed against him, feeling his erection, the friction between them making her insane.
His hands would fumble at her skirt, and he’d rip his fingers through her hose. She whimpered, wanting relief. He would hold her hard against himself with his big strong hands.
Oh, it was magic, pure magic. His fingers would plunge inside her. Exploring. Discovering the exact spot that would make her beg.
She’d fumble with his fly, desperate now, almost crying to have him inside her. Wet and hungry for him. He’d laugh and tell her how hot she was. How good they would be together. She moaned weakly, anticipating. And now, just when she was ready to blow, he’d slow everything down to a torturous pace.
His fingers would play inside her, first two, and then three. Everything inside was building, centered on that heated flesh, damp between her thighs. He’d tell her how he wanted to make love to her all night.
She closed her eyes and whimpered.
All night?
Her eyes flew open and she dragged some papers across the desk. Teasing. She’d work her way inside his pants, touching him carefully at first. He’d be all silky and all hard, his breathing shallow. She’d stroke the tip of him, and then he’d moan, and so she’d get serious. He’d jerk up her chin, and their eyes would lock. Slowly she’d stroke him. Then faster.
She smiled to herself. This time, he would beg.
Finally, his pants would go. And then his…boxers or briefs? For Joe? Briefs, definitely briefs.
She could make some lawyer joke. Nah, that would spoil the moment, and she so, so, so badly wanted to get that powerful piece of him inside her. He’d pull her up until she was straddling him, her legs wrapped around his waist. And then, with one blessed thrust, wham, right inside her.
Oh.
He’d start to move and she’d hold on for dear life. He was ravishing her. Her back was pressed against the door, and each time he thrust, she would rap against the door.
The pencil pounded on her desk.
Bam.
Bam.
Bam.
Wait a minute…
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
Her eyes flew open. “Amanda?” A voice called from the other side of her door.
Powers! Please, no.
Her legs flew down from the desk and she straightened her skirt. Oh, goodness. She pressed her thighs together, her muscles still a little jumpy. “Come on in.”
He entered her office and sat down in the chair opposite her desk. That meant he was going to stay.
Darn.
“Amanda, I’d like to thank you for your help with Van Zandt. You’ve been a real asset lately, picking up whatever needs to be done, finding cases on your own.”
“Did you need something, sir?”
“Yes. I have one more favor to ask. An old friend of the family is having some problems with his insurance company and I promised I’d help. I need someone good. I think you’re the perfect candidate.”
She stared at the pens, so upright and straight. Right in their place. This was it. This was the chance she needed. Help out an old family friend—fast-track to partner. She’d be the youngest one to make it at the firm.
“I’d be delighted to,” she started to say, and then stopped herself. “But you know, I don’t think I could give the client the attention that he deserves. D’Antoni’s case is going to be a real bear and with my existing caseload…The nice thing about Brown, Powers and McGlynn is that all the lawyers are top-notch and you can be sure your friend will get only the very best. You’ve done a great job assembling talent at this firm, sir. You should be proud.” Amanda took one of the pens from the holder and spun it sideways on her desk blotter. She waited, anxious to see his reaction.
His face fell. Disappointment. Darn. “I’m sorry to hear that, Amanda. I knew you were the one.” He rose and adjusted his jacket, and then started walking toward the door. And there was her partnership. Walking right out with him.
“Wait!”
He turned, raised a brow. “Yes?”
Amanda walked from behind the desk. She wasn’t ready to give it up yet. “If my schedule eases up, if we get a quick recovery from Clean-All, I could take it one.”
“But you can’t right now?”
She wavered, but in the end she knew her answer. “Well, no.”
“I see.” Disappointment was back.
Well, that was too bad. Amanda stood her ground. “No, I can’t right now. I’m sorry.”
He walked out the door and she collapsed in her chair.
What had she done?
8
AMANDA ARRANGED to meet Joe after work—five-thirty at Bow Bridge in the park. She tried to slip out at four-fifty-five without anyone noticing, but as luck would have it, Powers had decided to refill his coffee just when she was slinking down the hall, briefcase and keys in hand. “Out for the rest of day?” he asked, pouring a little sugar in his cup.
She could furnish all sorts of excuses, needing to meet with a client or just wanting to work at home. Any of the standard replies that a partner-in-waiting would make.
“Yes,” she said, waiting to see what token alibi she could come up with. But instead of the dedicated, ambitious, nose-to-the-grindstone person she was, she was struck dumb.
“I suppose you know the partners will be meeting next week? Going to see who’s naughty or nice. It’s no secret you’re up for consideration.”
“Is it that time of year?” she asked, knowing that the date had been marked on her calendar for several months.
“Yes, you’ve been working so hard. Doing so well. You have a bright future at here.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, discreetly checking her watch. She needed to get out of here.
“Are there any new developments in the Northcott case? Has Van Zandt messed it up too badly?”
“Oh, no, no, no. He’s got everyt
hing taken care of. Nothing much for me to do really. I set up a lunch with the insurance company next week. I think they’re ready to start talking about a recovery.”
“Good, good.” He leaned his hip against the counter. “I knew you were just the person to take on that challenge.”
“Anytime, sir.” Just not in the next two hours.
“And I’m going to keep you in mind. I wanted to talk to you about the D’Antoni lawsuit.”
“Yes, yes,” she nodded obediently.
“I’m not sure he’s got much of a case, Sedgewick. Are you sure there’s any potential for recovery there? It’s taking up a lot of your time. Without punitives, is it really worth it to us?”
She assumed her authoritative stance, looking Powers right in the eye. “Don’t worry. I’m thinking that once we show the other side the memos I found from their old vice president, punitive damages won’t be a problem. And Clean-All will be more than ready to talk settlement rather than risk getting slammed by a jury. Punitives will be the least of their worries. They’ll be clamoring for a confidentiality agreement to keep the news media off their back. And we’ll give it to them, too. For a price.”
“I’ll defer to your judgment.”
She sneaked a look at her watch—five-fifteen. She was going to be late. “I won’t disappoint you, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
Powers looked contrite. “I’ve been keeping you, haven’t I? Go on.”
“You’re sure?” she tried to look sincere.
“Take advantage of it while you can. After you make partner, these warm summer days will be a thing of the past.”
Amanda took off down the hall, and as soon as she got out the door, she ran.
JOE CHECKED his watch. She was late. Joe had never considered himself a punctual person, and it had never bothered him before to be kept waiting. But damnit, he’d been counting the minutes all day, and some little part of him had hoped she’d been counting as well. Wrong again, Barrington.
When summer was winding down, Central Park was always busy at six o’clock. There were mothers with toddlers, roller-skating businessmen, and the usual assortment of kids on scooters.
A collie bounded by with a Frisbee in its mouth and its owner in hot pursuit. For a few moments he watched the park, and then he saw her.
She walked with such an easy grace. Her hair swaying around the shoulders when the wind caught it. Heads turned when Amanda walked by, but she was always too busy to notice. He looked down at his own casual dress and frowned. He should have dressed up more. She was dressed in gray pinstripes and it should have looked manly, but jeez, the fitted material did nothing to hide her curves.
Okay, so maybe the day was improving. Radically. Damn, he was lucky. That blonde—that gorgeous, intelligent blonde—was heading right for him.
“Hello, handsome.”
“You’re late.” Not the “I’ve got to make love to you or die” that he wanted to say, but close enough.
“Do I get a kiss?”
She didn’t need to ask, his hands were already reaching out. Amanda leaned in, fitting his body perfectly. At the first touch of her lips, heat seared through him, stealing his breath. God, he could never get enough of her.
He fisted his hand in her shirt, pulling her closer, positioning her between his thighs. She rocked up against him, and he heard someone moan. That someone was him.
How could someone who looked so delicate, so fragile, kiss like that? He needed to breathe, draw some sort of oxygen into his lungs, but he couldn’t move. He could stand here for days like this, just feasting on her mouth.
She tore her lips away and buried her face in his neck. He could feel her heart racing against his chest. Maybe it was his own. “Are you doing this deliberately?”
“Doing what?” he managed, when his brain resumed rational thought.
“First the museum, now here.” She raised her head. “Always in public. Never private. Why?”
Because she was different. She was the Ritz and champagne, and he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her, not until the time was right. He took her hand, noticing how small and pale it looked in his own. She kept her nails painted. An impeccable pearl-pink. He dropped her hand and shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed.”
She didn’t buy it for a minute. “The truth.”
This time he looked at her, really looked. “Amanda, what do you want?”
“I told you, the truth.”
“No. I mean, what do you want this to be? A fling? Something more?”
When she stared up at him like that, all starry-eyed and full of ideas, he got scared. Part of him wanted to sit her down and say, “I’m not your man.” But he held his tongue, waiting, trying not to anticipate her answer.
“I got a letter from Avery today. Mission accomplished. He’s giving up on me.”
The words frightened him. There were no more excuses anymore. Now everything was real. “What do you want?” He repeated his question, needing her answer more than anything now.
“For the past couple of months, I was thinking just a fling. You always seemed so…unconstrained.” Her blue gaze locked with his. “I wanted that.”
“Is that what you want now?” If she said yes, he would walk away. There were women he could take. A few hours of mutual satisfaction before he’d get dressed and leave in the middle of the night. But not Amanda.
“No. I want to see where this goes. You can change me, Joe, and that’s what I want.”
Change? She wanted to change something? “Why the hell do you want to change? You’re perfect.”
Amanda laughed. “No, I’m not. I don’t have a life outside work and I can never relax. I stay up late at night and I don’t watch old movies or raunchy cable shows. No, I study case law and read about malpractice.”
He took her hand, perfect nails and all. “I thought you loved being a lawyer. Going to be on 60 Minutes, change the world. Remember that?”
“I don’t know. Right now I don’t want to think about work. I don’t want to think about anything. What about you? I told you what I was thinking. Now it’s your turn.”
“We don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, we do,” she answered, using her lawyer-voice.
Resigned to his fate, he sighed. “What do you want to know?”
“An affair? More?”
He couldn’t believe how completely calm she was, while his palms were starting to sweat. Still, she had been honest. God only knows why, but she wanted a relationship with him. There were expectations with a roll in bed, but he knew he could handle that. But the expectations from a relationship scared him. Responsibility, ambition.
This time, he wouldn’t fail. “More,” he answered quietly.
“Where to from here?”
To bed, straight to bed. Her smile was flirty, her eyes giving him all sorts of ideas. No, he had a plan for her. Romance, seduction. He wanted their first time to be unforgettable.
“We take things slow. I want everything to be perfect for you.”
“What could be more perfect than today? Look at the sun, the flowers. I don’t want slow.”
He cleared his throat, banishing all sorts of visuals in his head. “Amanda—”
She interrupted before he could finish. “You don’t understand. When I said unconstrained, I meant unconstrained. Spur of the moment, spontaneous, live life to its fullest and all that.”
Joe stared, trying to make up his mind. It was tempting, she was tempting. Finally, he decided. “Unconstrained, huh?” He kinda liked that image. he tugged at her hand. “Walk with me.”
“What?”
They walked to the Shakespeare’s Garden. It was quiet and out of the way. A few couples lingered on the edges, but he made his way deeper into the garden, where the tall grass and shrubs shut out the rest of the world. This would be perfect. Roses bloomed everywhere and a wooden fence appeared and disappeared between the trees.
He leaned back against the fence. “What do you s
ee?”
“Shrubs. Flowers. Trees,” she replied.
This time he pulled her against him, his hands spanning her waist, keeping her close. “Now. Close your eyes. What do you smell?”
She sniffed. “Your skin. The grass. New York.”
He pressed a kiss against her neck. Trailed his lips over her ear, let his tongue explore her softness. It was with great satisfaction that he heard her long sigh. “What do you hear?”
“Your breathing. The wind. Whispers.”
“That’s a long way away, Amanda. Nobody’s here.” He turned her in his arms and began to work the buttons on her blouse.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought you liked unconstrained? I’m trying to help.”
Her eyes flew open, full of shock. “Joe!”
He used his fingertips to close her eyes, watching the pale lashes flutter on her cheeks. A flush colored her cheeks, rose under marble. “Nobody’s here. Nobody can see.”
He pushed the silken material aside, his hands undoing the clasp between her breasts. “You have such beautiful breasts, Amanda. Absolutely perfect.” She felt his rough fingers touch her hard nipples, his thumbs brushing against them softly. “It’s the wind, Amanda.”
She kept her eyes tightly shut, her thighs clenching together. Already she felt herself throbbing and swollen.
His mouth closed over one of her breasts and pulled. “You taste like honey,” he murmured. His strong hands kept her in place, hands that she had longed to feel all over. A sharp breeze blew across her bare flesh and she shivered. Hot and then cold.
“Oh, please.” She kneaded the hard strength of his arms with her fingers, but it didn’t help.
“Please, what? What do you feel, Amanda?”
“I’m gonna die.”
His knees parted her legs, and she felt the hard length of him pressing against her thigh. In the distance she heard voices. She wanted to cry out, tell him to stop, but then his mouth closed over her other breast, his tongue circling her nipple, sending warm tides of pressure between her legs.
“What are you thinking about, Amanda?” he asked, his voice seductive, taunting. He licked a drop of sweat that collected between her breasts. “Are you afraid they’ll see you? You shouldn’t be afraid.”
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